Searching For
by JadeHeart
Summary: Fuma must face the world after the Final Battle, and himself. And so life goes on ...
1. Memories

**Title: Searching For…: Part 1 - Memories**  
**Author:** JadeHeart X/1999 – set after the anime series.  
**Rating: T**  
**Warnings:** Angst, memories of death  
**Author's Notes:** This was the first story I wrote for a fandom to post on the Clampesque Board site back in July 2005. It is based only on events up to Volume 14, and TV anime series.  
**Summary: Fuma must face the world after the Final Battle, and himself. And so life goes on ...**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this, they are all CLAMP's.

Part 1

The soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead, a couple gently floating towards the ground below to kiss the grass, until the breeze picked them up once more and swirled them away in a swaying dance.

Silken hair brushed across his forehead in the wind, falling over his eyes. He looked up at the sun above, the rays filtered by the tree's branches so it fell in a mottled pattern of light and dark. High pitched chirps and whistles accompanied the arrival of a couple of small birds as they jumped along the branch near where his hand rested, unafraid of the presence of the human there, sitting high in the branches of this tree that was their home. A soft smile automatically curved his lips as he watched them, his features softening.

He felt a light tap on his shoulder and a small ball of warmth settled near his ear briefly. Slowly turning his head, he looked at the tiny bird perched there, head cocked to one side to view his face.

"So you're a bold one, aren't you, my friend?" he said softly with a smile, seeing the bird's feathers move gently with his breath.

The little bird half flapped its wings and ruffled its chest feathers to puff them up further, trying to make itself appear larger than it was. An unvoiced chuckle filled Fuma's chest at these antics. With a flutter of wings his little friend soared to a branch hanging over Fuma's head.

As Fuma leant his head back to watch the flight, he rested it against the tree trunk. It was an old tree, old and majestic and it provided him some peace from his constant inner turmoil, so he came here often. The tree was surrounded by grass and other plants, away from the city sounds; a small oasis of calm in the chaos of Tokyo. The birds and other small animals carried on their lives here, unharmed and rarely bothered. This place was not on any path so had few visitors; Fuma being the only one now.

Kotori was here, buried beneath the overhang of this tree. Buried by someone who had loved her deeply, and continued on with his destiny, despite her loss.

Kotori, his sister, his beloved younger sister whom he had looked after for so long, and whom he had loved just as deeply as that other someone. His sister whom he had...killed.

A shudder shook his body, fingers clenching into a fist as it lay on the branch, the bark biting into his skin, pushing under his fingernails. A sharp stab of pain in his hand made him stop. He took a deep breath; long, slow. Another. Another. He began to find his balance again. It had taken him a long time to accept that he had been responsible for destroying his sister. A long time, filled with tears, pain, horror and remorse. Fortunately, the memory of him doing so remained blessedly vague, apparently as the other 'Kamui' whom he had become had only just begun to awaken. But the memories that he did have were filled with blood - Kotori's blood. On his hands.

He probably would have gone mad at that time, or killed himself to stop the pain, to destroy this shell and the hands that had killed Kotori, if not for one night a few weeks after the Final Battle.

He hadn't been asleep, he was sure of it. The horrors that he had inflicted on others had kept him awake in those first few days, sitting in his room in a chair near the window, eyes wide, staring, unseeing, withdrawn, seeing the horrors played out over and over again. So he was sure he wasn't asleep.

Then he had heard a voice calling him. A soft, gentle voice, a voice that he knew, a voice belonging to someone he loved. His mind had resurfaced, eyes searching for the owner of that voice in the long shadows in the spartan room.

A soft glow began to form almost directly in front of him, a soft blue-white light that seemed to swirl like mist. A shape began to coalesce within this nimbus. A small form, compared to his six foot frame, a feminine form. Long honey coloured hair, large eyes and a gentle smile on a face he knew as well as his own.

A sob choked in his throat as he raised a trembling hand towards the figure before him, hovering a few inches above the floor, seeking to touch what was now out of reach. Then miraculously he felt two small soft hands enclose his outstretched one, warmth covering it.

Tears streamed down his face as he gazed upon Kotori's smiling face. He couldn't move. He was afraid to move, least any further movement on his part would cause this wonderful vision to go, flee, leaving him alone once more.

Kotori floated closer, bringing his clasped hand to her breast, clasping it tightly. He closed his eyes for a moment. He could **feel** her! He opened his eyes quickly, afraid to lose sight of her. She knelt before him and rested her head on his knees.

_Fuma,_ she spoke quietly, though the voice didn't seem to be heard with his ears.

He reached out his other hand and gently rested it on her head, fingers automatically running gently over the long silken strands that lay there, combing them as he had done so often before over all the years they had been together. Tears fell onto Kotori's hair and he gentle wiped them away with each stroke. He felt like his heart would break from joy. It was Kotori, she was here, she had come back to him, she wasn't gone. He wasn't alone anymore.

Kotori raised her head and looked up into his face. She raised a hand and softly wiped the tears away that still fell, that continued to fall. Tears of pain, regret, love and joy. She still smiled at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly in a voice that was unused to being used recently. "I'm sorry." He could say nothing more, there was too much to say, and no words to say it.

She shook her head sharply, her hair swinging across her shoulders in an action that yanked at his heart it was so familiar.

_No,_ she said firmly. _I'm sorry I left you. I didn't want to, truly I didn't. But it was my destiny._

At that word, 'destiny', his hands clenched. He wanted nothing more to do with 'destiny'. 'Destiny' had destroyed everything he held dear. Is this how **he** had felt all that time? Fuma wondered suddenly in shocked understanding.

Kotori's hands tightened on his, bringing him back to the moment.

_I know it is hard. I didn't want to die. But this was a moment that had to happen, to finally reach the moment of Choice._ Her voice sounded like it was echoing in his head. _I had a choice to make, just as you did. Between the Earth and my death. I chose this._

Fuma stared at her in shock. She **chose** to die! In such a horrible way? Why hadn't she told him! Why hadn't she **stopped** him!

She reached up and touched his face, cupping his cheek in her small hand.

_Fuma,_ she continued, looking deeply into his eyes with a strength that he hadn't realised she had held within her.

_I chose to die because I wanted the Earth to live. Not just because the Earth **should** live, and all the animals, plants and people on it should live, but I wanted the Earth to live because I wanted you and Kamui to be happy. The Earth was the place both of you were, and I wanted there to be no other place but here to continue on. And I would have done **anything** to protect both of you, no matter what it cost me! I knew the path for you both would be hard, but I had faith in you both that you would traverse it and reach its end and that you would be safe. That is why I chose this._

Fuma tried to speak but his voice choked. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "But we didn't make it to the end of the path. Not both of us..." his voice trailed off as his throat closed again in pain.

Sadness filled Kotori's eyes for a moment, a sadness that Fuma immediately regretted for being responsible for causing.

_I know,_ she said quietly dropping her eyes for a moment. _But you both did save the Earth..._

Fuma interrupted, with a sharp shake of his head. "**He** did! I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything except **destroy**!"

Kotori looked up again at him.

_That's not true, Fuma!_ she cried softly, standing to lean over his seated form and placing both hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her and only her. _Without your heart, without the feelings that you had for Kamui, his wish **couldn't** come true! Don't you see that? Without a heart that could love, and still loved, despite what had happened and everything that was going on, Kamui could **not** have made his last wish. It was because there was still a part of your heart that Kamui could enter and make his wish a reality! You **did** save the Earth! Just as he did! You did it together!_

Fuma looked into her passionate eyes, wanting to believe, and a part of him did. He remembered the feeling as Kamui placed his hand over his heart, there at the end, entrusting his wish to Fuma. He remembered a sudden breaking, as though barriers that had been erected around a place deep inside him were crumbling, a feeling of something reaching out of himself, through the other 'Kamui's' presence that filled his soul, reaching out towards this other feeling that was entering him, this other feeling coming from **his** Kamui. And he remembered the feeling as these two essences joined, melded, combined and then...it was over. The other 'Kamui' was gone. As was...his Kamui. But the feeling remained. Still remained.

Kotori nodded.

_Yes!_ she said firmly. _You see? It was because you **both** wanted the same thing. And no matter how deeply your own soul had been pushed and sealed away, there was one thing that you held onto, and refused to let be destroyed and taken over. And when Kamui needed that, needed you to be there, you answered that call. You kept your promise, Fuma. You promised that you would protect Kamui, and you did. Because without you, Kamui would have died and the Earth as well, and it all would have been for nothing!_

Fuma continued to look at his sister, her hands on his face, wet with the tears that hadn't ceased to fall. He wanted to believe so much and he was beginning to, just a little.

Kotori moved one of her hands and placed it over his heart. He felt the warmth of that hand, felt the rise of his chest against it as he breathed.

_Remember, Fuma. I live on here in your heart. I always will and I don't regret my choice and I don't blame you. It wasn't you who did this. You were in here, waiting for the moment when you could keep your promise. And you did. And Kamui lives here inside of you now. Always and forever._

Fuma raised a hand and laid it over the top of Kotori's, pressing it against his chest.

"I want you back," he said brokenly.

She smiled sweetly at him, eyes filled with sorrow.

_I know. I can't._ She paused a moment, then continued. _But I can do this._

A small glow began around their clasped hands. Fuma took his away and looked down at his chest. Kotori moved her hand away a few inches from his body and he could see a small ball of light, no bigger than a marble. Kotori's eyes were closed and her whole being began to glow also.

_This I can do for you,_ she said, and raised both hands before her and pushed against his chest, and pushed the glowing ball **into** his chest, directly over his heart. He gasped, not in pain, but at a sudden feeling of warmth inside. It felt like a portion of his soul was unfreezing, thawing, and he couldn't halt the hand that came up to rest over his heart, or the soft smile that came to his lips.

_That is what I've wanted to see._ He raised his head at Kotori's words to see his sister looking down at him fondly. _It's been a very long time since I've seen my Fuma smile in that way. Filled with love and kindness. I like it like that, _and she smiled impishly back at him, eyes lit with joy. He felt his smile broaden in return. Yes, it had been a long time since he had smiled because he truly felt happy.

He noticed the light around Kotori brightening and she sighed, _I have to go now. _

He felt the smile slip from his face, a hand reaching out to her and grasping one of hers tightly.

"Please, don't," he begged.

_I must. I really shouldn't have come here at all. I'm not supposed to really, but I couldn't leave you here alone. I had to tell you that, and make you understand what had happened. I couldn't let you continue to blame yourself for a decision that I had made. And now you know I'm never going to be apart from you again._ She leant forward and whispered behind a hand as though there was someone else that was there that could hear her. _I'm not supposed to do things like that, but you're my big brother and I wanted to. So there!_ Her impish smile lit her lips again.

Fuma reached out and placed both hands to cup her face and drew it closer to his. He rested their foreheads together, eyes closed for a moment.

"Thank you." he whispered, then placed a kiss on each of her cheeks.

_Anytime, big brother._ she whispered back. _I'm always with you. Forever._ And she placed a final benediction in the form of a kiss on the top of his head before stepping back.

_Remember, the future is never fully determined. There is still hope. Even when you feel there is none. Don't give up yet._

The light around her intensified as she spoke, and as she raised a hand to blow him a kiss, it slowly faded and she was gone.

Fuma sat silently in the dark room, hands clasped over his heart, thinking.

The breeze ruffled his hair again. It was autumn, still warm but soon it would begin to get colder. But whilst the weather was mild he would continue to come here, to this tree. To Kotori's tree. He loved it here and it was here that

Fuma still felt so close to his sister. The gentleness, the warmth, the feeling of time having stopped and only all the good things captured and held.

Slowly he let his eyes close, letting his mind drift, sitting, half lying on the tree's branch. The breeze fluttered against the open necked white shirt he was wearing, sunlight adding touches of warmth to his neck.

One hand was bathed in the sunlight, resting on the branch. The warmth was nice, he thought. Warmth on his hand...like the touch of another's hand. Warm, slim fingers clasped around his. Hands that seemed so delicate, so fragile, almost feminine, yet were masculine and had held such strength, such power. He knew those hands well, could recall the touch of that hand as it lay over his heart, there at the end.

Those hands matched well the body, the lean, slim lines. A fluid body, always seeming in motion and yet it could hold so deathly still, so inwardly absorbed. But so soft and yielding when enfolded in his embrace, so giving and surrendering as the arms encircled his waist.

The soft silken hair, permanently moving in the air around it, the touch running softly over Fuma's hands, as he clasped the head to his chest and rested his cheek against it.

The face was angular and elfin in looks, so expressive all the time, and the crowning glory of that face were the eyes. The large, violet eyes that filled the face, enough to make you forget everything else around you. Eyes that filled with every emotion felt, filled and overflowed. Eyes that were beautiful even when brimming with tears or anger. Eyes that held so much suffering, hope, pain, yearning, wanting, caring, and ...love?

He could still see those eyes as they looked up at him, everything in them that said he would always be there, that he would protect the world, that he would protect Fuma as he promised, keep him safe, that he wanted Fuma to be happy. Those eyes...Kamui.

Fuma opened his eyes with a jerk, sending the small birds fleeing in fright from the sudden movement. His head snapped back to connect solidly with the tree trunk. He didn't even feel that contact over the stabbing pain filling his chest. He crushed the hand that had been warmed by the sun to his chest, clasping it there, as though to hold onto that warmth, the ghost of a touch. Or to keep the pain inside. The pain...the sorrow...the loss.

He slithered down the trunk to the ground, his peace shattered... again. He had so few times when he forgot, for but a moment. His long legs stretched out as he began to walk away, his strides lengthening, quickening, until he was running; fleeing his memories, or running desperately to try and reach something now out of reach. Both...neither, he just ran.

A bump against his shoulder made him stumble, his stride broken and he became once more aware of his surroundings. He had left the Academy's grounds; he was back in the city, crowded with people.

He stopped on the sidewalk, letting the throng of humanity part and move around him, swirling around in a riot of colours and sounds. He looked upwards, at the soaring skyscrapers, stretching towards the blue sky, the white clouds crowning them, the sun glinting from the many windows and steel frames to make a halo around these man-made giants. This is what Kamui wanted to save; the people, the city.

Fuma continued to look, to absorb everything around him, to try and believe as Kamui had believed that all this had been worth it.

Fuma did like it. He liked the city, he liked the people, he liked this world. Kamui had placed all his faith on this world. He had wanted to protect it, to make it safe, to bring Fuma back to himself and give him a world to be happy in.

And he had done it - he had brought Fuma back, the other 'Kamui' gone in that last instance, the world was safe as he had wished.

But Fuma could not be happy in it. For this beautiful world no longer held the one thing that he wanted the most, that meant the most to him.

His eyes fastened on Tokyo Tower. He saw Kamui looking up at him, his eyes filled with peace, hope and love, a gentle smile on his lips as he placed his hand over Fuma's heart and told him that he would continue to live on his heart always.

Yes, he had been right. He did live on in Fuma's heart. But it was not his heart where Fuma wanted Kamui to be. He wanted Kamui to be there with him, in person, in the flesh, to look at, to touch.

Tears pricked at his eyes, the pain stabbing again and he gripped his chest, fingers digging into his flesh as though wanting to rip out the organ that caused so much agony. At a stumbling run he fled again, seeking solace and knowing he would find none.

He arrived back at the mansion at the Academy which was his only refuge now.

On that last fateful day he remembered standing at the edge of Tokyo Tower, hand over his heart, feeling Kamui's essence engulfing himself and all the Earth.

He distantly heard the sound of a helicopter coming closer but paid it no mind, his thoughts still full of what had occurred and the beginnings of the loss to come. A scuff of a boot on metal behind him did make him turn.

There were two men standing there. One he dimly remembered as being a Dragon of Heaven. The young man wasn't much older than Fuma, his long pale coat tattered and torn, with more than one blood stain on it, fresh smears on his face. One arm was thrown around the other man's shoulders as he leant heavily on this aid, pain radiating from the thin body, but also a deep inner strength. He was no longer a Dragon of Heaven, no longer a guardian of the barriers, but there was still power there. Great power.

The dark head rose to look at Fuma more fully. Fuma started at the single emerald eye, the other like a white crystal, clear and bottomless.

Another dim memory surfaced. Himself inflicting pain. Worse, inflicting blindness. A feeling of horror came over him, a feeling of remorse for all that he had done.

Something of it must have shown on his face for the young man took a deep breath and left the other man's support, brushing aside the worried sound the other made, and walked with slow, dragging steps towards Fuma.

Fuma felt trails of coldness on his cheeks as the wind dried the tears that ran down his face. He still stood on the very edge of the tower.

The young man stopped before him, only a foot between them. He wasn't as tall as Fuma and so had to look upwards a little, but this did not lessen the feeling of power Fuma felt from him, nor did it lessen the feeling of respect that Fuma felt.

More and more memories were beginning to surface for Fuma as he had watched this man traverse the short distance. The tears continued to flow. Fuma realised how much pain he had given, how many deaths he had caused, how little he had cared.

"Kamui...Kotori," he moaned, standing in the silence.

This man before him had suffered at his hand also, suffered greatly in his own right and in his protection of Kamui against Fuma's wrath. It would be easy for the man to reach out a hand and just...push. It would have been his right, and Fuma wouldn't stop him. It was no less than he deserved after all he had done. He could never set things right. It doesn't work that way.

The man continued to look at him silently, unmoving. Fuma waited for the blow, wanting the blow. A hand rose towards him. This was it - revenge, justice, the end. It was only right.

Fuma stood still, and as the hand drew nearer he closed his eyes, not from fear but to look deeply at the last memory of a beautiful face and violet eyes, to hold tightly to that memory in those final moments. But instead of the sharp shove he was expecting and the feeling of falling, he felt a hand gently rest over the hand he still clasped to his chest, over his heart. Startled he opened his eyes to look into the uneven stare of the other, the warmth of the hand over his stealing the chill from his skin.

"Come. There has been enough death. It is over."

Those quiet words undid Fuma completely, and with a hard sob he dropped to his knees, tears flowing freely from his eyes, both hands clasped over his chest, crushing the fabric as wrenching sobs drove themselves from his body, and he shook with them.

The other knelt before him, one hand still clasped over Fuma's under his body and as he cried Fuma felt another arm settle gently over his back, drawing his head to rest on the chest clad in tattered black material.

This warm touch of another person, the absolution given by one who had every right to scream for retribution, wiped away the last touches of the other 'Kamui' and all that had occurred.

Fuma began to make out soft words, whispered into his hair as a warm cheek rested on his head as he continued to cry.

"It is time to move on and to live, and to hope. There are still wishes in this world, though sometimes they may take some time before they can be fulfilled. That is the gift that Kamui gave to us all. What choice do we have but to honour that which he most deeply wanted for us?"

Fuma continued to cry for a long time, cradled in the strong, warm arms of the onmyouji master.

After that, the helicopter had taken Subaru to the hospital and Fuma to the mansion. He was told that this was now his home. In a way he was extremely grateful. He could not go back to the shrine. He could never go back there. Far too many painful memories were there and if he went back he knew he would be swallowed up by them and drown in the sorrow. He was not yet strong enough for that. He was given a room and told to go wherever he wished in that wing.

It was nearly a month before he felt able to leave his room. His meals had been delivered to him there as was anything else he desired. The first week or so he could do nothing but sit. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, his moments haunted by returning memories. Nothing could break this cycle. Until Kotori had come.

After her visitation, he was finally able to eat and sleep. He found that he slept most of the time, a true sleep that for the most part was dreamless. Sometimes his sleep was disturbed by nightmares but his body was drained. The unnatural strength of the other 'Kamui's' presence had pushed his mortal frame to the limits, and with that power no longer there, his body was now desperately trying to rebalance itself. So plenty of food and sleep was what it craved at this point. Finally when he felt not only strong enough to walk but strong enough in will and spirit, he left his room to look around.

There were many bedrooms in this wing. This was where the Dragons of

Heaven had lived. Admittedly, not all of them, but a number of them who had not originally come from Tokyo.

Although they were gone and their rooms had been cleared after the final battle, it was surprising that when Fuma wandered into them during his exploration he found he could identify each. Perhaps it was the interaction of the other 'Kamui' with each Dragon of Heaven that had attuned him to their presences, even this long after the Final Battle.

In one room as he wandered into it, he spotted a patch of yellow in the darkness under the bed. Reaching under he pulled out a baseball cap.

Sorata, he thought, pulling up a memory of the other 'Kamui'. A happy, laughing boy. Intense and passionate. Embracing life head on. Killed by his hand.

He dropped the cap as though burned. Dead.

He fled the room.

Another room was bright and airy. A girl's room, he thought, it had that feel to it, the feminine calmness. Over at the window seat, on the ledge in the corner, half hidden by a cushion, was a small brush. Two long brown hairs still hung in its bristles.

Arashi, he placed a name to the face that flickered into his mind. A sword of brilliance flashing as she fought to change the destiny of the man she had loved.

And failed.

Again he fled the room.

Another was smaller, cosier, with a small study desk set up in a corner. An empty box of pocky was half crumpled and pushed to one corner near the wall. Fuma felt half a smile touch his lips.

Yuzuriha and Inuki, he thought.

He remembered this girl, the intense desire that was there in that small body, the strength of spirit, the will to live and the great love she held in her heart.

He remembered the spirit dog striking him, pushing him away from its mistress and the fierce look she had then given him as she half turned her back towards him to protect the young spirit pup.

Yes, she was a strong one.

And she had found her match with a Dragon of Earth no less. Kusanagi, a man just as full of encompassing love and the fierce desire to protect that which he wanted to. Which in this case was Yuzuriha. Although she was still young, this would be a match to last. They would stay together now.

Fuma ran a gentle hand over the edge of the study desk. Yuzuriha would not be using it again, she had gone home and had taken Kusanagi with her. She would not be back.

Fuma did not flee this room but left it with an almost fond, though wistful look. It was good that she was safe and would be happy.

Subaru's room had been pointed out to him at the start so he had never had any intention of going in there. But by the time he had gained his strength he had been told that Subaru, too, had left, returning to his family's estate in

Kyoto.

Now Fuma opened the door to what had been Subaru's room at times. It was clean, fresh looking. Nothing left behind.

Leaning on the window ledge and looking outside, Fuma noticed a cigarette butt resting there, half burn down as though it had slipped unnoticed from someone's hand, not been thrown there.

Had Subaru smoked? Fuma didn't know for certain but guessed this must have been the case. For some reason it reminded him of Seishirou Sakurazukamori.

He had glimpses of memory of Subaru, always in relation to his being there to protect Kamui. Those were the most intense images he had from that time. That fierce protectiveness that Subaru felt for what he wanted to protect, at all costs.

Subaru had made it more than clear that he wanted no revenge, no pay back.

He wanted nothing from Fuma for the past. He had not seen Fuma in person before leaving but he had left a note, which surprised Fuma in its politeness and thoughtfulness. Subaru owed him nothing, certainly not any kind of courtesy. The note simply said good-bye and a blessing to live well. Fuma kept that note folded and placed in a pocket over his heart. He cherished it, for when he placed a hand over where it lay, it made him feel as though he was not alone. He trailed out of that room and continued on.

All the rooms held a memory of their occupant, a touch there, an essence here, a memento of the individuals, both living and dead, of who and what these people were, not just Dragons of Earth.

The baseball cap of Sorata's wasn't just an inflection of being 'cool', he actually did enjoy this American based-game.

Arashi had beautiful long hair and did like to sit at the window and brush it, a small moment of vanity in her austere life.

Yuzuriha loved to munch her snacks whilst studying, and it was a good thing she was so active to burn off the calories or this habit could become a problem for her later!

Subaru obviously smoked, unusual in itself for an onmyouji master, but it made him more human as well.

All the rooms held these parts of these people for Fuma to see, read and feel.

But there was one room that held nothing.

It was a large room, spacious and beautiful, a separate sitting room joined it.

It was glorious - and totally empty of anything that had been its previous occupier.

This was Kamui's room, he had been told. He had come here hoping to find something of Kamui's; a token, a feeling, anything.

But there was nothing.

There was no sense of Kamui in this room, and no matter how hard Fuma looked, how desperately he searched, there was nothing left here that had been Kamui's.

Nothing.

This room was empty. It held no memories of the person before, it would be completely filled by the person coming after.

Fuma felt his heart lurch in his chest and he dropped heavily to his knees at the side of the bed. He stretched his arms out before him, spreading his hands over the sheets and gripping them, scrunching them together as he buried his face into the white crispness, his hot tears soaking into the layers.

Kamui wasn't here.

He was gone...

Gone.


	2. Hope

**Title: Searching For…. : Part 2 - Hope**  
**Author:** JadeHeart   
**Fandom:** X/1999 (up to Vol 14 and set post anime series)  
**Warnings:** Angst, memories of death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this, they are all CLAMP's.

Part 2: Hope

Fuma stepped out of the train and looked around. He spotted the sign for the exit he wanted and began to make his way towards it, side-stepping the other rushing pedestrians, both coming and going.

He dodged around a mother pushing a pram, which unfortunately took him directly into the path of a running man. Both of them saw each other at the same time, there was a split second for them to realise that collision was imminent, and then the tangle of arms and legs as they both tumbled to the ground. The flow of humanity continued around them, each busy in their own world.

Fuma felt a softness under his hand and realised that it rested on the other man's thigh. He also realised that a head was nestled in the crook of his neck, soft breathe on his skin. He blushed a little with embarrassment. There was certainly squirming going on as they both tried to extricate themselves from their position, sometimes getting in each other's way more than not, and making the process take far longer than it should.

"So sorry!" the other man said, getting to his knees before standing. "I wasn't watching. Are you okay?" He held out a hand as an offering of assistance.

Fuma reached up to clasp the hand and raised his head as he spoke, "It was my fault, I didn't check. I'm….." his words stopped in his throat as his eyes widened. He could see the change of expression on the face of the man above him also as recognition clicked. The hand holding his tightened, almost painfully.

Fuma froze in shock. How, in all of Tokyo, could he have managed to run into this man! Out of all the millions of people, in all the different places, why him? And why now? What could he do? What could he say? What…..what…..

The hand around his tightened again and Fuma waited for the pain, the retribution, the shunning. Instead he felt a tug upwards as the man urged him to his feet.

"Come on…….Fuma." the quiet voice said as Fuma staggered to his footing. The hand did not release his and that gentle grip was like a prison.

Fuma allowed himself to be led to a seat set to one side in a corner. The bustling of the crowds continued, oblivious to the little interplay that was occurring in their midst.

A slight pressure on his shoulders made him sit. Once he was, he looked up at the man before him. Seiichiro Aoki looked back.

The eyes behind the glasses were bright, intelligent - but it was the warmth that unhinged Fuma. Warmth was not an expression that he had expected to see from this man. Hatred, anger, burning revenge… those he had fully expected to see. All that would have been completely normal to see from this man when he came face to face with the cold-blooded killer of his beloved nephew. But there was none of that. Only warmth. Fuma felt himself grow colder. How could he face this feeling being given to him? It was wrong - and the last thing he deserved!

He dropped his head down, bringing his hands up to cover his face, trying to hide, feeling the streaking of tears on his cheeks. A sob choked in his throat. Oh, gods, he had killed Saiki! Torn him apart, left him in pieces, couldn't even give him a quick, clean death that would at least have been more honourable. Instead he had inflicted as much pain and brutality as he could have on the young man trying to protect Hinoto and Kamui. Deliberately did it this way to ensure that it caused the most grief and despair to the living left behind to mourn.

Fuma's body shook with the sobs coming out of him.

Then he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and he shied away from the touch, pushing himself back into the corner against the wall, one hand raised over his face as though to hide his tears, or to ward off a blow he was expecting to fall.

But a hand merely closed around that raised arm, and with the tiniest of pressures forced it down. Fuma kept his face still turned away, eyes squeezed shut, refusing to look at the other. If he didn't look, if he didn't acknowledge the man before him, then he wasn't here, this was all just a nightmare.

A warm hand gripped his chin belying this wish, forcing his head away from the wall. He kept his eyes shut.

"Fuma…" a quiet voice said softly. "Won't you please look at me?"

Mutely, Fuma shook his head stubbornly. No, he wouldn't look, he couldn't look!

"Please? For my sake?"

Fuma couldn't understand the gentleness of the voice. There was no beguilement in it, no pretence or deviousness. It was just a question asked and Fuma could do no less than to concede to that request.

Slowly he opened his eyes, tears still caught on his lashes, the hand still gently but firmly gripping his chin, tilting his face upwards as the other man gazed down.

"Are you all right?" the man asked sincerely, gaze wandering over Fuma's tear-stained face with an expression of worry in his eyes.

"Am I…..?" Fuma could hardly believe his ears. This man was asking if **he** was all right? After all he had done before?

Fuma felt tears begin to fall again, leaking from the corner of his eyes to run down his cheek bones, to touch the fingers of the hand gripping his chin.

A gentle smile graced the other man's face and the hand on Fuma's chin left it, only to then gently cup the side of his face and a thumb carefully wiped the tears away. He squatted before Fuma and gently shook his head.

"Guess it was a bit of shock for you, wasn't it? Running into me, I mean." Seiichiro Aoki sighed. "I didn't mean to startle you so much. I honestly had no idea you were here." Then his lips quirked in a half smile. "Not that I would really have had any way of knowing you were here amongst the millions of people in Tokyo!"

He reached out a hand and patted Fuma's knees. "Are you okay to walk? Was there anywhere in particular you were going?"

Still feeling stunned, Fuma shook his head silently.

"So you've got no pressing appointments?" Seiichiro questioned.

Again Fuma shook his head in the negative. Aoki pursued his lips then half shrugged. "Then why don't you come along with me? I'm going to stop by to see a friend briefly, but I'd like us to talk. Don't you think we should?"

He looked down at Fuma trying to gauge what the boy would do. Fuma seemed to be struggling with this suggestion, should he or shouldn't he accept? Then his shoulders seemed to slump a little as though in defeat and he nodded his head slightly.

"Good. Come on then." Aoki put a hand underneath an elbow and levered the lanky frame to its feet. It's a good thing that Aoki was about the same height as Fuma or it might have been a bit awkward. Placing a gentle guiding hand on Fuma's back, Aoki led him towards the train he needed to catch.

Inside the carriage they were lucky enough to find two seats together. Aoki cast quick glances at his companion. He had been surprised when Fuma had looked up and Aoki had recognised those features. No, not surprised – shocked. He couldn't help but be so. It was just so unexpected, so completely unexpected as to be almost surreal. He also couldn't stop that initial surge of anger at coming face to face with the demon they had all fought and struggled against for so long.

But the lost look in the eyes of the face before him…those eyes didn't belong to the murderer of Saiki. Those eyes weren't the eyes of the Destroyer of Earth. The face may have been the same, the body may have been the same – but those eyes belonged to an entirely different soul. And the look of suffering and loss in them reminded Aoki far too much of another young boy who had been such a big part of his life. A boy who had lived up to, and far exceeded, everyone's expectations. A boy who had saved the world.

A boy who Aoki could not save. Just as he could not save Saiki.

Aoki sighed softly. After all these months he really hadn't thought about what had happened to the other 'Kamui'. He hadn't known this boy, Fuma, before. He had heard a lot about him, from the various Dragons of Heaven and a bit from conversations with Kamui. But his only introduction to this boy was after the other 'Kamui' had awakened and there was nothing left of the 'Fuma' that Kamui had known.

After the Final Battle, and he had finally been well enough to leave the hospital, he had returned to his wife and began to rebuild his life with his family. He knew that Arashi had returned to her temple, as had Yuzuriha. He had found out that Subaru had indeed returned to help Kamui on that last fateful day and probably it was his intervention that had enabled Kamui to fulfil his wish. Aoki was always surprised by the Sumeragi. Such a young man, so tortured and unhappy, and yet one of the most powerful people he had ever known could exist. Only he could have accomplished so much in coming between the two 'Kamui's' in the battle of Destiny. Only he could have influenced Fate. Such power.

So with each of the Dragons of Heaven returning to their own homes, and with Kamui gone, Aoki had not given any thought to the surviving 'Kamui'. No, he thought to himself, stealing another side long glance at his young companion. Not 'Kamui'. Fuma. And only Fuma.

The train slowed as it entered the station and he nudged the boy beside him. "This is our stop." And he pushed his way to the doors, Fuma following behind. They exited the station and turned right. It was late afternoon, the sun dipping towards the horizon and a cascade of gold was slowly falling over the land.

Fuma stared at his feet as he walked, not daring to look up. He had sat in silence on the train next to this man, waiting for something to be said, blame to be given. But there had been nothing. Now they were walking in silence.

"We're here," Aoki said, stopping.

Fuma glanced up then and took note of his surroundings. They were in a cemetery. So this is it, he thought, half in relief. He had just been biding his time, making certain that he would be unobserved when he dealt out justice. It was certainly a fitting place. Fuma bowed his head, waiting for the blow to fall. Let it be over with.

"You really don't have to be afraid, you know." Aoki said quietly. He had watched the expressions flash across Fuma's face, and was inwardly horrified that the boy could think such things about himself, Aoki. And more horrified that Fuma would submit to such a thing, would even welcome it! This boy was so young! How could he value his life so little!

At Aoki's words, Fuma's head snapped up, eyes startled. Aoki smiled gently at him. "I didn't bring you here to do anything to you. I don't want to hurt you."

"But I….." Fuma began and had to pause to swallow hard, to force the words out. "I ….killed…." he couldn't even say the name. He wasn't worthy to even say the name.

Aoki's eyes saddened. "Saiki. I know. But," and he looked Fuma directly in the eyes. "It wasn't you. And a part of you knows that. You had no more control over matters that were occurring than many of us had. In fact, in some ways, you had less control than any of us, including Kamui. At least he still retained his self, his soul, throughout it all. You were stripped away and replaced by the 'Kamui' of the Dragons of Earth. In many ways, Fuma," and he stressed the name seeing the boy start, "you were more of a victim than anyone else."

"But …I….killed," the boy's voice was no more than a broken whisper, "so…many!" and anguished.

Aoki reached out a hand to squeeze one shoulder, feeling it shaking beneath his touch. "I know. But it is time to let go of the past. If you don't, the past will only continue to rule you. It is time to begin to live again, to find meaning again. And it is time to remember those that did perish during this battle. Remember, recognise and respect the things that they died for. Because they believed above all else, that those things were worth dying for."

"Is that true?" Fuma asked, looking pitifully at Aoki, hoping and yet not daring to hope.

Aoki smiled warmly. "I firmly believe so. A very dear friend told me that."

"Who?"

Aoki retained the smile and nodded downwards towards their feet. Fuma let his eyes drop and read the gravestone there. Karen Kasumi, it said. He looked questioningly at Aoki.

Aoki smiled warmly at the name at his feet. "Karen was one of the Dragons of Heaven. She was a firemaster. A very good one."

He looked up at Fuma, seeing the other's eyes go out of focus briefly as though sifting through memories. Then there was a flash of recognition, followed quickly by hurt. Aoki quickly reached out and gripped both shoulders, giving the boy a sharp short shake, to bring him back to the present and to prevent him from being swallowed by the past.

"Don't!" he said, more sharply than he intended, but it seemed to do the trick as Fuma's gaze focussed back on his. "Don't blame yourself for something that is not your fault. Karen was preordained to be a Dragon of Heaven. She had her powers from the time she was born. It caused her nothing but grief and hardship when she was a child. She was called a demon, the devil's child. Her mother died when she was very young, so she was on her own after that. She worked in a bathhouse, which is hardly as glamorous as it sounds. That is how we first met."

At the widening of Fuma's eyes, he hurriedly clarified that statement. "I was doing some research for a writer! That's all!" then he had to chuckle to himself. How many times had he had to defend his friendship with Karen? Too many for him to count, but he would never not acknowledge that friendship, for Karen had been, and always would be, a very special person. A very special friend.

"However," he continued, turning his thoughts back to the tall boy standing before him, "through all that hardship she retained her beliefs. Her belief in her faith, in herself, and in her role as a Dragon of Heaven. Nothing….no-one, could take that away from her."

"But it was for…nothing." Fuma whispered, glancing down at the stone.

"It was for everything." Aoki corrected. Fuma looked up at him as he continued. "Karen believed the most important thing was that if you had to die, to die protecting those that you loved. It doesn't matter what sort of love that is – as a lover, as a friend, as family, it didn't matter. What mattered was that it was for love, that you loved someone or something more than your own life, that you were willing to sacrifice everything for that love. That is what was important. Karen truly believed that. And Saiki felt the same. He had decided when he was quite young who would be the person that was worth more to him than anything else.

And so did…Kamui."

Aoki felt the jerk through the body beneath his hands, the sharp painful intake of breath, the flash of pain in the eyes. So, he had been right in his guess. This boy…Fuma… had felt the same for Kamui, as the younger boy had for him. All that wishing by Kamui, that burning desire to bring Fuma back that had driven him more than any talk of destiny or fate or salvation, all that had been reciprocated in his counter part. It should have been a happy ending, Aoki thought sadly. They should have come together at the end and helped each other heal. Instead Fuma has been left on his own , never being able to show Kamui that he, too, had wanted the same thing.

Fate was sometimes just far too cruel – especially to these children.

"Kamui wanted so much for you, Fuma," he said gently. "He desperately wanted you back. He was so positive that he could do it, that you were still 'you'. Somewhere inside. The rest of us weren't so sure but Kamui never doubted, not for one moment. He swore to give up everything to bring you back, to save you. He wanted to make certain that when he brought you back, that there was a world for you to live in. A world full of promises, of hope, of love."

Fuma's shoulders continued to shake, hand clenched at his sides in fists, as he struggled to hold his emotions inside and failing.

The intense pain radiating from the boy's body broke Aoki's heart. He automatically reached out to clasp the shaking body to his chest, feeling the shaking running through the limbs, the silent sobs. Fuma's head fell to his shoulder, and he could feel the tears soaking through his jacket to touch the shirt and then skin beneath. It reminded him of the times he would comfort Saiki, and it did not seem surprising or wrong that he now found himself doing the same for the boy who had cut short Saiki's young life.

"Fuma," he murmured, stroking the hair. "This world is now alive and open to all the possibilities that it can hold for you. And that is what Kamui gave to you. It was his gift to you, given with all his heart. So it is time to look to that future, and find what is waiting for you as Kamui wished for you always."

Fuma was now crying audibly, and Aoki felt his arms come up to grip his back, cling to him, and it reminded him of how his young daughter would hold him when she was hurting or so afraid. The grip of a child, for this boy Fuma, was still only a child in so many ways. And a child that desperately needed comforting and support to help them through the times that threatened to break them.

"Hold on, Fuma. And remember - I will always be there for you."

And Fuma cried.


	3. Peace

**Title: Searching For…. : Part 3 - Peace**  
**Author:** JadeHeart   
**Fandom:** X/1999 – (up to Vol 14 and set post anime series)  
**Warnings:** Angst, memories of death.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this, they are all CLAMP's.

Part 3 – Peace

"You need to get out," Nokura said one morning at breakfast.

Fuma had finally become comfortable enough to eat in the kitchen with the Trio, although it was rare that all three were there at the same time. Generally he found it was only Nokura, who enjoyed cooking the most, and when Fuma had taken a mild interest in something he was making one morning, he had begun to give Fuma cooking lessons.

"It's not good for you just to hang around the house and go to school. How are you finding school now?"

"'Fine," Fuma said, not really elaborating.

He wasn't lying. His grades were above average, not great, but certainly more than adequate, although he did have to do the homework to go with it, it didn't just come easily. He had struggled at first. He had missed a great deal of schooling due to the lead up to the Final Battle, and even before he had become the other 'Kamui', his school work had suffered due to his father's death. So going back to school had been very difficult. Especially as he had to be in a class with students a year his younger to try and catch up.

But he had managed to get beyond this and his grades showed that improvement. He found that he was enjoying the ability to focus all his attention to studies. He found he could lose himself in it for a time - and forget everything else.

"So why don't you go out somewhere for a day or two?"

"Where would I go?" Fuma asked in complete honesty.

He had no where to go. His family was all gone, he hadn't kept in touch with any of his old friends from his old school, and he had made no new friends at this school. He knew no-one except the people here.

"What about seeing Seiichiro Aoki? You get along with him."

"He's taken his family to America for a holiday. He had some work to do over there."

"Oh. How long will he be gone for?"

"Probably about three months."

"Ah. You hadn't said."

Fuma just shrugged, concentrating on the chopping he was doing and trying to keep his long fingers out of the way of the sharp blade.

There was silence for a time, apart from the sound of the blade hitting wood, the bubbling of the pot on the stove and the stirring sound as Nokura swirled the spoon around.

"Why don't you go to Mt Koya?"

Fuma slipped with the knife and sheared some skin from the side of a finger.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, dropping the knife and bringing the bloodied finger to his mouth.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Nokura said hurriedly, "Quickly, under the tap!" as he turned it on and pulled Fuma's injured hand down under the stream of water.

As the blood washed away Nokura gently turned it from side to side, examining the cut. "Doesn't look too bad, you shouldn't need stitches but we had better get it taped up quickly." He turned the water off and passed a towel to Fuma. "Here, pat it down dry. Don't worry about getting the blood on it."

Fuma did as he was told as Nokura rummaged around in a cupboard and pulled down some elastoplasts. "Okay, let's have a look at it."

Fuma passed his hand over to the other man, who also took the bloodied towel.

"Looks okay. Fingers always bleed a lot. Fingers, toes and ears are always the worst, even if the injuries are minor." He dabbed a bit more around the wound, sopping up the blood and making the area as dry as possible. "Okay, this might hurt a bit."

He spilt some liquid from a bottle onto some cotton wool and swiped it over the cut. Fuma sucked his breath in at the sting. Nokura smiled in apology. "It's tea tree oil, an antiseptic, so there shouldn't be any danger of infection." As he was speaking he was quickly wrapping the elastoplasts around the finger, sealing the cut and swathing the finger in its protection.

"There!" he said with some satisfaction, looking at his handwork. "Could have been worse, but that should be fine in a couple of days." He looked up at Fuma. "I am sorry. I hadn't meant to startle you so much."

Fuma shook his head a little. "It's okay. I was just…surprised." He looked over at Nokura then, a small frown on his face. "Why….why would you suggest I go …..there?"

He couldn't understand Nokura thinking it would be a suitable place for him to go sightseeing, and certainly not conducive of him relaxing. Mt Koya was where Sorata Arisugawa had lived. The boy he, Fuma, had killed. Mt Koya was not somewhere that Fuma wanted to go. And the people living at Mt Koya would most certainly not want to see Fuma.

Nokura looked him directly in the eyes. "How long do you intend to keep running from the past?"

Fuma looked away quickly. "Haven't you all told me to stop living in the past? That I should move on?"

Nokura reached out and touched his shoulder as he spoke. "Yes, you do need to move on. But moving on does not mean ignoring or avoiding what has occurred. If you do that you don't learn anything from it, and may be doomed to make the same mistakes again."

"Mistakes?" Fuma looked at him. "I can't make the same mistake. Kamui is already gone."

Nokura let out a soft sigh and turned back to the bubbling stove, turning the heat down to a simmer. "Fuma, you need to look at the past, at what happened and think it through properly. We all have demons in our souls, darker sides to our nature that haunt us. We can't necessarily change that, or the things we have done, but we do grow stronger when we can acknowledge those parts of ourselves and accept them, and learn how to control them. If we don't, our souls wither inside and we become nothing more than empty shells." He shot a side long glance towards the silent Fuma. "You already know what that is like."

Fuma did know – for that is exactly what it had been like as the other 'Kamui'. Cold, heartless, uncaring, everything was nothing more than a plaything. And he had been nothing more than a shadow, a reflection, a mirror for other people's wishes. There had been nothing of **him** - nothing of Fuma - until his Kamui had placed a hand over his heart, looked at him with those brilliant violet eyes….and smiled. Then, and only then, had Fuma returned. So, yes, he knew exactly what Nokura was saying and how true it was.

"But why Mt Koya?" he said, picking up the knife that had fallen to the floor earlier.

"Because it is a special place, and the Stargazer is a great man. I think he would want to meet you."

Fuma started and stared at Nokura as if he had suddenly gone raving mad.

"What on earth makes you think he wants to see **me**!" he almost shouted. "I **killed** Sorata! I ran the Shinken right through his body up to the hilt! I sliced him through as though he was no more than an inconvenience and did it with no hesitation and a smile on my face!"

He dropped his face into his hands. "How…why would his Master want to see me?" his voice was muffled. "All I would do would be to bring him pain."

Nokura's voice reached him. "I think you're wrong there. Yes, there will be pain. Yes, it will not be easy for the two of you to meet. But the Stargazer knew Sorata's destiny. **Sorata** knew his destiny. And they both accepted it completely, with no regrets and no hesitation. And finally being able to meet you, as you are now, would help the Stargazer know that all of it wasn't for nothing. that Sorata's passing did have some meaning, because the world has been saved and it was because of Kamui's wish that it is so. And you played a big part in that wish, Fuma. You know that."

Fuma raised his head, tears pricking at his eyes. Part of his heart knew what Nokura was saying. He had to admit that Sorata had weighed heavily on his mind. He had killed the boy himself, just as he had Kotori. The other deaths may have also been his responsibility but it had not been by his own hand.

"It's too soon," he murmured, turning away and laying the knife on the counter carefully.

"It's been more than eight months." Nokura said quietly, back still to Fuma as he stirred. "You can't keep running forever."

Fuma quietly left the kitchen.

The rumble of the engine subsided as the bus disappeared into the distance. Fuma slung the bag over his shoulder and looked up the path, then around the countryside. It was certainly beautiful here, he thought. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The clear, fresh scent of the air was refreshing. He let out a deep exhalation and opened his eyes again. Once more he looked up the path before him, hesitating.

It had taken another two weeks of thinking for him to come to this decision - to come to Mt Koya.

Nokura had said nothing more after their initial conversation. He had left it entirely up to Fuma. He had thought long and hard about what Nokura had said, what it meant. Should he go? Would there be any point to it? Would he help, or would it only cause harm? His thoughts had begun to drive him crazy. Should he, shouldn't he, would he, wouldn't he and so on. Finally he decided he had to do it before he went mad just trying to think about it. There were always consequences to any actions. He would just have to accept them, no matter what they were.

So that is how he now came to be here; standing at the foot of Mt Koya, trying to find the courage to take that first step.

A distant rumble of thunder drew his glance to the east. A bank of dark clouds lined the horizon, speeding towards him as the storm drew in. That decided him. He had to try and beat the weather. Getting caught on the side of the mountain in the storm would not be fun.

Turning again he mentally took a deep breath and stepped out, gradually lengthening his stride to walk quicker up the incline. He was fairly fit physically, but it wasn't long before he was puffing, and sweat coated his feet. He really hadn't been doing any form of physical activity or training since he had stopped playing basketball. He could never bring himself to go back to it at his new school; it had seemed something that belonged in the past, to a different Fuma. So this extreme cardiac activity was taking its toll. But for all that, Fuma welcomed those feelings. The stretching of muscles, the straining of the lungs, it meant that he was alive.

He hadn't reached his destination when the storm broke. The sky had darkened as the black clouds rushed in, the thunder loud enough to shake the air around him. The first clap had seemed to be directly over him, and he couldn't help the gasp and jolt of fear he felt. Nature was a fearsome creature. Across the mountain top lightening flashed, spiking downwards like angry dragons. He shied away from that thought. Enough about dragons.

He continued trudging on through the rain that assaulted him, whipped along by the wind that was increasing. His shirt was plastered to his skin, clinging, as were his trousers which made walking a little difficult as the fabric seemed to be trying to wrap around his legs and trip him up. He kept his eyes focussed on the ground before him, watching his step, fully aware that a misstep could cost him a broken leg in such conditions.

Suddenly he reached some stairs. Looking up he realised that he had finally reached the start of the temple complex. Slowly he mounted the first stair and began to climb.

Reaching the top he raised his head and used his free hand to push his dripping hair from his eyes. He looked around, seeing the glimmering of lights from various buildings, lighting the wide verandas and doorways, some lanterns swinging in the darkness where they were attached to archways leading in other directions.

He stood there, uncertain of where to go. He was completely unfamiliar with the temple layout. He had thought that there would be people around when he arrived that he could ask for directions, but in this weather everyone had wisely sought shelter.

He walked towards the largest structure. That seemed the most likely place to start. He began to mount the stairs, having only placed his foot on the first step when a sound above him made him look up. A figure was silhouetted there, wrapped in robes.

"Excuse me," he began, taking another step. "Can you help me, please?"

The figure moved forward and stood under the swaying light of a lantern. The movement of the wind made the shadows flicker all around the woman, clothing her in light and dark alternately. Fuma stopped in shock, one foot still raised to take another step. The woman looked down at him, that same lantern showing the features clearly on his upturn face. She said nothing, made no move. Her face remained unchanging.

Fuma felt his heart twist in his chest, pain clawing through him…fear….horror…..revulsion. Not towards the woman before him….towards himself.

"No," he heard himself voice in a barely audible whisper. He began to shake his head from side to side, refusing to believe, refusing to see, refusing to know, refusing reality.

"No….no……no!' and he spun away, bag dropping heedlessly to the ground as he ran.

He ran blindly, his feet slipping on the uneven ground made dangerously slippery by the torrential rain. He stumbled, making little progress, not even realising that he wasn't running in a straight line, nor was he actually running towards the freedom he was seeking as he had bypassed the entrance. He was sobbing, throat and chest hurting beyond belief. He tripped on something and fell heavily to his knees, the impact jarring his body painfully, something slicing into the palm of his hand and across one shin. He fell to his side and curled himself into a ball, arms hugging his shaking body, all the time his mind was saying over and over again…. No… no… no…..

The rain continued to assault his battered body, each stinging drop feeling like a blow, a deserved blow. Fuma wanted to die, for it to be over. Let the elements take him, take him away from himself.

Then suddenly the rain stopped. Or more to the point, the rain stopped reaching him. He could see through his half open eyes the rain drops still hitting the ground only about a foot from his nose, the little puffs of dirt being pushed upwards at the impact, but no further drops struck him. Something was protecting him. Someone was protecting him.

He half turned his head to look over his shoulder, rain, tears and mud streaking his face. A figure knelt next to him there, holding a large umbrella over his curled body; a figure with long brown hair that framed a still face with large deep eyes. Eyes that Fuma felt he could fall into their depths and never reach the bottom. Eyes that looked at him, but he could read no expression there.

Then he could hear other voices in the night, "Over here! They're over here!" and other hands were lifting him, carrying him. He realised that this woman continued to shelter him from the elements as they moved back to the buildings, and all the time he could not stop looking into those eyes. The eyes of Arashi Kishu.

He didn't really remember being carried back to the temple, or being taken to a room and laid down. He didn't remember his sodden clothing being removed and warm blankets being wrapped around him. His mind felt numb with shock. This could not be happening. It was **not** happening! She wasn't here. She **couldn't** be here! This was nothing but a nightmare!

But when warm, soft hands cupped his face and turned it, it was still Arashi Kishu's eyes that he saw. He tried to jerk away but the blankets impeded his movements.

"Stop it," she said quietly, "lie still and have some tea. You were soaked through and we don't want you to get a chill." She turned and picked up a steaming cup, holding it towards him. Her other hand slipped beneath his neck and tilted his head forward, the cup coming to his lips. "Sip it carefully. It's hot."

He could do nothing but comply with her simple instructions, feeling somewhat like a little boy being scolded by his mother. He took a tentative sip and sucked his lip quickly. She was right, it **was** hot. He took another sip, feeling the warmth trickle down his throat into his belly, and then slowly, as he drank further, that warmth began to spread to the iciness of his limbs. When he had all but finished, she removed the cup and laid his head gently back down.

He continued to stare at her in silence, not knowing what was next. She returned his scrutiny, those deep, dark eyes searching his face. The intensity of her gaze made him flush and look away. He couldn't continue to meet her eyes, he didn't have the right to even look at her, not after all the things he had done. He closed his eyes and felt a tear slip from the corner. Why had he come here!

"So," her quiet voice cut through his self hatred. "You have come."

He didn't turn his head. How she must hate him!

"I thought you might have come sooner, but I guess that was selfish of me to think that. It must have been very difficult for you after that final day. I'm afraid none of us really gave much thought to you. We were all so wrapped up in ourselves then. I hope you will forgive us?"

Fuma rolled over in surprise, half sitting up. "Forgive **you**?" he said, stunned.

She was asking for **his** forgiveness? But he should be the one throwing himself at her feet begging for forgiveness, or for death! This was wrong! She should never even think that she should be asking for forgiveness from **him**! He had wronged her!

"Yes. We were all hurting and could only think of escaping back to things that were familiar to us, to heal. We completely forgot about you. And that is something I've been praying constantly about. That I'm sorry I wasn't stronger, that I didn't stay to be with you and to help you, that I was so selfish and fled, only thinking of myself. I pray every day for Kamui's forgiveness. For not being able to extend a helping hand to you at your time of need, when all he had ever wanted was for your happiness."

Fuma could only stare. She prayed ….for him? He didn't think there was anyone left who would pray for him. Maybe Aoki, now they spent more time together, but no-one else. And certainly he would never have dreamed that Arashi would have been.

"But you have done nothing wrong." he said in a broken voice, tears beginning. "It was my fault. All my fault!"

She tilted her head to one side. "In a way, yes, you are correct," she stated matter of factly. "But also in many ways, none of it was your fault. If we really wanted to be perverse we could say it was Kamui's fault. After all, it was in making his choice to be a Dragon of Heaven that then tipped you to become the 'Kamui' of the Dragons of Earth. So shall you blame him?"

"No!" Fuma said vehemently, hands clenched. "Never!"

"Then how can you blame yourself?" she asked calmly.

"But it was me. It was my own hands…." and he trailed off, looking down at his spread hands before him. "There is so much blood on my hands." he whispered, beginning to shake.

Two hands suddenly lay over the top of his, palm to palm. "Then it is time to cleanse them and begin anew."

He looked up into Arashi's face. A small smile touched her lips, and there was warmth in her eyes as she looked at him. This only made him feel worse, want to weep more.

"But I killed ….him." he whispered in anguish. "I …took him….from you."

A cloud of sadness scurried over her face and a soft sigh left her lips. But the hands in his only squeezed reassuringly. "I know. But it truly wasn't you. And no matter what any of us tried to do, his destiny was sealed."

She looked at him, holding his hands tightly. "Do you remember what I tried to do? That I turned my back on my fellow Dragons of Heaven all because of my feelings for one person? I was prepared to kill Kamui, even though I knew I was condemning the world to destruction, but I was prepared to risk everything, to commit any sin, to avert the fate that was set for Sorata. I would have walked through Hell for eternity if I knew that he was well and alive. I didn't want the responsibility of knowing that he had died for me, that I was part of his fate."

She looked down, removing her hands and placing them on her knees. "I am ashamed of what I did, what I was prepared to do. But," and she looked up and there was still a fierce pride and passion in her eyes. "I would do it all again if I had to. I know I was extremely selfish. I had never known how selfish I could be. It is something I hope that I can change in myself. And it was because of that selfishness that I left and didn't help you. I am sorry."

"But you did what you did because you loved someone!" Fuma exclaimed, not wanting to see Arashi blaming herself, believing she had done something wrong. "You did it for love! What could be more important?"

Arashi smiled at him. "Yes, I did it for love. And didn't Kamui fight as he did for love? For you?"

Fuma was silent, looking into Arashi's warm eyes. She was right. Kamui had fought through everything, suffered everything, including so much at his own hand. And he had done it all for Fuma's sake. If that wasn't love, what was?

Arashi rose to her feet gracefully, but she seemed slightly off-balance which didn't seem to be right to Fuma's eyes. She moved over to the sliding doors and pushed one open.

The storm had passed whilst they had spoken, and the warmth of the setting sun shone through into the room, bathing the woman standing there looking out. Fuma could feel the warmth on his skin. It was nice, comforting.

Arashi turned sideways for a moment, a gentle smile on her face and a hand reached up to lightly rest on the swell of her abdomen.

Fuma started as it all became clear to him. All the signs had been there but he had been too wrapped up in his own turmoil to put the pieces together. Arashi was with child! And he had no doubt what so ever who's child it was. There could only be one person who was the father – Sorata.

Another intense stab of pain and guilt cut through him. He had killed Sorata, taken him from Arashi, and not only that, deprived his child from ever knowing its father. Sorata would never see his child, never know its touch, never hear it call to him. He had ruined so many lives.

Arashi turned fully to him, that gentle smile on her face still, the protective hand cradling her unborn child.

"But I do have you to thank for one thing," she said softly. "For without you and Kamui I would never have met Sorata. And although he is gone, and yes, it does hurt, that hurt is better than the emptiness when I think of never having known him. The time we had together, every moment is so very precious to me. I can give all those memories to his child so they will know who their father was, how special he was. He is not truly gone, for he lives on in my heart and always will, and he will live on his child's heart also. And his child's child as well. Sorata will go on always. He can never truly die."

Arashi walked closer to him and reached a hand down to touch his cheek. "So thank you. Because now Sorata is eternal."

Fuma reached up a hand and held her warm one to his cheek. He closed his eyes as another portion of his soul slowly thawed, and glimpsed a memory of a smiling face with the baseball cap set at a jaunty angle, and a saucy wink as the youth disappeared into the distance.


	4. Friends

**Title: Searching For…. : Part 4 - Friends**  
**Author:** JadeHeart   
**Fandom:** X/1999 (up to Vol 14 and set post anime series)  
**Warnings:** Angst, memories of death

Authors Note: Parts 5 & 6 that completed this story are found else where due to containing more explicit material (lemon), so I won't be posting them here.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters in this, they are all CLAMP's.

Part 4 – Friends

Fuma stared at the paper he held in his hands, dumbfounded.

The pink paper was covered in little cartoon cats with big eyes and long whiskers, in various poses of play. His mind was having a hard time getting around the fact that someone had sent him an invitation to a party, that someone would send it to him on **this** type of paper - but most of all, that 'someone' happened to be Yuzuriha! What on earth possessed her to do this!

A knock on the door drew him back to reality and he looked towards it, "Come in,"' he called quickly.

The door opened and Nokoru stuck his head around the corner with a smile. "Sorry to disturb you, Fuma, but I wanted to let you know that we were going to be away for a few days so I'm afraid you'll have to get your own meals. The fridge is well stocked though so I don't think you'll starve!"

Fuma didn't respond, his mind only half on what Nokoru was saying. His air of distraction made Nokoru frown in concern and he entered the room fully and he walked over to where Fuma was sitting on the end of his bed.

"Is something the matter?" he asked worriedly, half leaning down to peer into Fuma's face.

Fuma was still speechless and could only hold out the paper for Nokoru to take, which he did. Nokoru scanned his eyes over the message, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Even through the paper Yuzuriha's boundless energy seemed to infuse the message; every word, every inflection was all purely Yuzuriha! Ah, he had missed her presence in the mansion!

When he had finished he glanced down again at Fuma, who still looked completely stunned. He couldn't help the chuckle that rose in his chest, which soon burst out in a full fledged laugh. This startled Fuma even more. What on earth had got into Nokoru! This was no laughing matter! Fuma frowned at his laughing friend.

Nokoru waved his frown away, still chuckling as he handed the pink paper back to Fuma who took it, smoothing the crinkled edges on his knees.

"So what do I do?" Fuma asked worriedly.

"What do you mean, what do you do?" Nokoru replied with surprise. "You accept, of course!"

Fuma's head shot up. "What! I can't accept!"

"Why ever not?"

"Because….because….I just…can't!" Fuma's emotions churned in his guts. Gods, he was going to give himself an ulcer at this rate!

"Don't be stupid!" Nokoru said sharply, placing hands on hips to glare down at him.

Fuma felt like trying to huddle in a ball and disappear into the bed clothes. Nokoru really could be scary when he put his mind to it.

"Don't you dare refuse and hurt Yuzuriha's feelings! She's gone to a lot of effort to think of you so the least you can do is acknowledge that and accept – graciously!"

Fuma felt suitably chastised. He probably was being selfish, but he was completely unnerved by this unexpected gesture.

"But I….still don't know what to do!" he almost wailed in his despair. This was going well beyond his realms of reality at the moment.

"Well, a present would be a good start." Nokoru stated practically.

"A present, yes," Fuma mused getting to his feet, his hands still unconsciously smoothing the paper they held. "But …like what?"

"Well," Nokoru scratched his chin a little awkwardly. "I'm not exactly sure myself. I don't generally buy presents for young girls that much."

"Young girls….what do they like?" Fuma continued pacing the room, thinking. "I used to buy presents for Kotori but…" he shied from that but then deliberately made his train of thought continue. "Kotori was very different from Yuzuriha and she was my sister after all so that makes it different too. What would be appropriate for Yuzuriha?"

Nokoru had heard the pause in Fuma's words when he had mentioned his sister's name, and he was extremely proud how he was then able to continue on. The boy had come a long way in these last ten months from the broken child he had been. Nokoru had been pleased to see Fuma begin to grow again as a person, to come to terms with the past and look towards a future. There were still shadows in his heart though, one in particular that Nokoru knew would never fully go away, no matter what happened, but Nokoru fervently hoped that someday that shadow would be only a tiny portion in Fuma's soul and that the boy would finally find the peace and love he deserved. Oh, if only he were a few years younger!

"Flowers are too formal," Fuma was muttering to himself, still pacing. "And she might suffer from hay fever. Does she?" he turned to look at Nokoru who shrugged.

"I never noticed if she did."

"No, flowers wouldn't do. Something for the house? But I don't know where she lives, or if she lives at home even still. I guess she would, she's only 14."

"Almost 15." Nokoru put in with a smile.

"15?" Fuma said with surprise.

"Almost."

"Hmm. 15 …what do 15 year old girls like? Clothes, jewellery..." he shook his head. "They're too personal. I couldn't give any of that to her. I don't even know her taste."

"Well, it's not just her birthday remember. It is a betrothal ceremony."

"Aghh!" Fuma said, throwing his hands up to clutch his head in despair and then, hearing the crinkling of the paper still in his hand, quickly brought them down and began smoothing it out again.

He placed it carefully on the table top and re-read the message. "I can't believe that she's getting betrothed."

"I don't know why you're so surprised. From the time those two met I think it was destined that they would come together. And they know it."

"But she's so young!"

"Youth doesn't mean that you can't love, or understand real love when you find it." Nokoru said with a gentle smile. "When two hearts and souls meet that are destined to be together, they **know**. There may be difficulties, they may have to wait, it may be a hard path to find the happiness they seek, but if they truly believe in themselves then they can overcome all obstacles. Those two know that and are fully prepared to accept it, and they want to share this moment with all of you who are their friends."

"Friends?" Fuma stilled for a moment, thinking about that. He slowly looked up from his bent position, "Is that what I am?"

Nokoru smiled at him fondly "What do you think? Would you just invite anyone to your betrothal ceremony? For something that important and special to you, would you want to be sharing it with strangers?"

Fuma shook his head "No, I guess not." He knelt down and softly ran his hand over the paper before him. "But I haven't even seen her since…."

"Does that matter? Obviously she doesn't think so."

Fuma looked up again. "But it doesn't make any sense! Why would she want me there? I almost killed her! I would have killed her except Kusanagi was there! Why would she want me to be there!"

"Perhaps because she wants all those that played such an important part in the saving of the world to be present at a time when she is the happiest? Because there is a world that she can be happy in."

"But I didn't **save** the world! I was responsible for trying to destroy it!"

"And so was Kusanagi!" Nokoru put in forcefully to prevent Fuma slipping back into despair. The boy still hovered so close to the brink at times, especially when he was feeling vulnerable, as he was at present.

His words did make Fuma pause and think. Nokoru was right. Kusanagi had been a Dragon of Earth, the only one surviving from that group. Fuma remembered that he had always seemed out of place in the group. He had so much more warmth and feeling than any of the others. He had been so much more grounded. Perhaps not surprising as he was an earthmaster and so had such an intimate connection to the Earth and everything on it.

And surprisingly this Dragon of Earth fell in love with the youngest Dragon of Heaven; a mere slip of a girl, with boundless energy and a large heart. A heart that was so full of love that it was as big as Kusanagi's heart. Yes, they really were a good match and he was glad for them. So if Yuruziha could find it in her heart to love a Dragon of Earth, perhaps she really could forgive him. Perhaps she really could think of him as a 'friend'.

He glanced back at the pink paper and couldn't help the smile that began to touch his lips. He let out a quiet laugh and looked up at Nokoru who was still standing there.

"I guess I will be going after all."

"Good!' Nokoru said firmly, pleased at Fuma's decision. He turned to leave the room when Fuma's voice halted him.

"But I still don't know what to get her!"

Fuma smoothed his jacket down again, a nervous gesture to keep his hands from shaking. Now he was standing outside his destination he was having serious second thoughts. Make that third, fourths, fifths and continue to infinity!

What was he doing here? he thought to himself. He still couldn't believe that he had a place here, that he had any right to be here, despite receiving the invitation. What was he going to say? Who else was going to be here? He glanced down at the box in his arms and began to sweat a little. Gods, he hoped he had chosen the right sort of gift! That was almost just as worrying as whether he should even be here at all!

He was just about to come to the decision of just leaving the gift at the door and escaping, when the said door was thrown open in front of him and a squeal rent the air, "Ohhhh, I'm so glad you came!" and a small body threw itself against his chest and two slim arms encircled his waist in an almost rib cracking hug!

He stifled a brief surge of pain at the contact, wishing it were another pair of arms that clasped him in this way, that it was another dark head that nestled on his chest. He swallowed a sigh - it was not to be. Never.

Yuruziha then looked up and must have seen something of his feelings on his face, for she quickly released him and skipped backwards a couple of steps.

"Oh, I'm so very, very sorry!" she said, bowing deeply to him in apology. "I shouldn't have done that at all. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to hurt you!"

He held out a hand to try and stop her outpouring of apologies. It wasn't right for her to talk about hurting him just with a hug. Not after all the intense pain, both physical and emotional, that he had inflicted on her.

"It's all right," he managed to get out. She looked up at him from her bent position, head cocked to one side. "It's okay." he assured her.

"You sure? You really did look sad."

He shook his head, slowly managing to smile at her. "Just a… memory. That's all."

Yuruziha stood upright, looking at him intently. For someone so young she had a very direct and probing stare. Perhaps not so surprising seeing as who she was. "You were thinking of Kamui." she said softly.

He felt his breath catch. She was far too perceptive, but he couldn't lie to her so he just slowly nodded his head.

She smiled sadly back at him. "I know. I think of him, too. I wish he were here. It would have been so nice if he had been. I know he would have had fun. Even if he pretended he wasn't!" She took a step closer to him, stretching her head back so she could look up at him. "I know how much he meant to you, because I know how much you meant to him. Just like how much Inuki and Kusanagi mean to me. I wish I could have done something to have helped you both." She glanced down "But I couldn't. I was powerless. And I was more worried about Kusanagi at that time. Sorry."

Again, that word. Fuma couldn't understand how these Dragons of Heaven felt sorry for **him**. Not after everything he had done. It seemed so strange.

He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder making her look up again. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

She smiled at him "I know. Truly I do, and Kusanagi tells me that all the time if I ever get down in the dumps. But it was such a terrible, terrible time. I'm so glad it's all over but I really, really wish that people like Karen and Kamui could have been with us. They deserved this world just as much as we did, so sometimes I can't help but wonder, why am I here and they aren't? Who chose me to be the one to survive? And why am I allowed to be so happy now? Sometimes it seems really wrong and I think I must be a terrible person to be this happy and be looking forward to such a wonderful life and I am so lucky to have so many wonderful people around me who are my friends.

But then I think that this is what I should be doing. That this is why the others died, to ensure that people just like me could be happy! That is what they believed in, and that is what they died for. So the least I can do is truly show my appreciation for everything they have done for me and share every moment of my happiness with others!"

Fuma smiled at her fondly. "You were just as prepared to die, too," he said, remembering their battle. "You had the same dream, the same wish for this world and the people you held dear. You would have sacrificed everything for it. You are just as brave and giving."

"Really?" Yuruziha said, searching his face.

He nodded. "Oh, yes." He smiled larger. "I know that for a fact!"

"I'm glad!" she said, throwing herself into his arms again. This time he embraced her back, accepting her for herself and not seeing a ghost in her place.

"Looks like I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you, young miss. As soon as my back is turned you're out chatting up other men!" a deep voice came from the shadows of the doorway.

Yuruziha giggled and skipped to the side of Fuma, still keeping her arms locked firmly around his waist. "Ah, Kusanagi, at least he's really cute!"

A deep laugh greeted her response as Kusanagi stepped out into the light, a broad smile on his face. "That he is! At least I can admit you have good taste in men!"

Fuma felt a blush touch his cheeks under their teasing. This was the last thing he expected!

"Of course I have!" Yuruziha said with a laugh, releasing Fuma and throwing herself at Kusanagi. "I chose you!" Kusanagi reached down and lifted her into a bone crushing hug that she seemed to revel in.

"You always did know the nicest things to say!" he said as he placed her gently back on her feet.

"Bring Fuma inside whilst I go get some drinks!' and she rushed away.

Kusanagi stared after her fondly, a smile on his lips, before turning back to Fuma. There was a silence between them for a moment, but before it could become awkward, Kusanagi inclined his head and put out his hand. "Welcome to our home. Fuma."

Fuma looked down at the proffered hand. This man knew only too well what he had been, he had seen the other 'Kamui' at close quarters on more than one occasion, had followed that other 'Kamui' in the lead up to the Final Battle. The man knew, and yet still held out a hand in friendship. And he had made certain to stress his name; to acknowledge that he knew the other 'Kamui' was gone, and now there was only Fuma.

Fuma looked up and placed his hand in the other's, feeling it close around his in a sure, but gentle hand shake. "Thank you." he said sincerely. Then a little self consciously he held out the gift he was carrying.

Kusanagi raised an eyebrow as he took it. Fuma raised a hand behind his head in another self conscious gesture, and gave a little shrug. "I didn't know what to give her." he said sounding almost helpless.

Kusanagi smiled at him as he placed a hand on his shoulder to steer him inside to where the other guests were standing. Fuma could see Seiichiro Aoki standing to one side with his wife and young daughter. Seiichiro raised a hand in greeting, a welcoming smile on his face. Arashi Kishu was seated elsewhere, a swathed bundle in her arms, a gentle smile on her face as she crooned to the baby there. She glanced up and directed that warm smile towards him also.

And in a dark corner was a person whom Fuma truly hadn't expected to see here, but in some ways he guessed he should have. After all it was only natural that all the remaining Dragons of Heaven would be invited. And that would include Subaru Sumeragi.

Kusanagi continued to move him into the welcoming huddle of people clustered in the garden. "It doesn't matter," he was saying in response to Fuma's concern about the gift. "She'll like it no matter what it is. Because **you** gave it to her."

Fuma felt the warmth all over.


End file.
